When All is Said and Done
by Ginny3
Summary: Alternate Universe/Josh and Donna future fiction. Things don't go as planned after Donna give Josh the deadline in the series finale. But it will all work out in the end.


When All is Said and Done

By Ginny

Title comes from the song by ABBA, "When All is Said and Done" as featured in the musical Mamma Mia.

Disclaimer: there are many, many things I don't own, among those things, The West Wing and any ABBA songs.

This is something I've had sitting on my hard drive for a few years. I am posting it in memory of my good friend Abby. We shared a love of The West Wing and especially for Josh and Donna. Her encouragement of my writing was the driving force behind many of my WW stories over the years. I miss you and will never forget you. RIP

* * *

I nervously turn my bouquet a little, wanting the perfect daisy facing forward as I start my walk down the aisle. Running my hand down my dress to smooth away any wrinkles which might have appeared since I did the same thing two minutes ago I glance down the aisle to look at the man awaiting my arrival. Josh is, as expected, a bundle of nervous energy. He's raking his hand through what's left of his hair and messing with his tie. Next to him his best man elbows him to get him to stand still and look at me. He clasps his hands in front of him and gives me a dimpled grin.

The music starts, everyone turns to look at me and for the moment all is right with the world. I am exactly where I always expected to be, minutes away from pledging my eternal love to Joshua Lyman.

As my matron of honor, my sister Kelly goes down the aisle first.

"Ready?" my son Matthew asks as he holds his arm out to me. A month away from his 21st birthday, Matt is the spitting image of his father with his red curly hair and light blue eyes.

"I am. Are you sure?" I ask. It's the same question I've asked nearly every day since Josh asked me to marry him almost six months earlier. Losing his Dad to cancer when he was just a teenager forced my son to grow up faster than either of us would have ever imagined. Matt just nods, giving me the reassurance I need.

We start down the aisle, slowing our steps in time to the music. All eyes are upon me as we make our way to the groom and his best man. I'm sure more than a few of our friends and family are thinking…..it's about damn time. Believe me, it's what I'm thinking.

When we reach our destination, Matt kisses my cheek and shakes Josh's hand before he takes a seat next to his girlfriend. Josh's son Andy, his best man, winks at me and smiles the dimpled smile he inherited from his dad. Andy's a year younger than Matt and the two of them became fast friends from the day they met.

Josh grabs my hands and it's all I can do not to kiss him before we've even begun our vows.

Twenty minutes later and what I've dreamed about the better part of my adult life becomes a reality. We have become Mr. and Mrs. Joshua Lyman, to have and to hold, for better and for worse.

All I can say is….it's certainly been one hell of a ride getting to where we are at this very moment.

* * *

Back when we were preparing for Matthew Santos' inauguration I gave Josh, and myself, a four week ultimatum. I really had my doubts about whether or not we could pull it together and decide what we really wanted, both as a couple and as individuals. Sounds funny when I think about it now. We certainly knew what we wanted as individuals. Josh was on the verge of becoming one of the most powerful men in the Democratic Party, if not the nation. I was about to start a job I couldn't have even dreamed of the day I walked into Bartlet for America headquarters.

But as a couple, things weren't as clear cut or easy. We passed the four week mark having made only vague plans and I moved into Josh's townhouse with him. Throwing ourselves into our work, helping to guide a new Presidency, we settled into a wholly expected, frantic existence. For a while things were good, we were a Washington power couple, social invitations came from all over the Beltway and from both sides of the aisle. We had demanding jobs and a busy social calendar that left little time for "us". Things started to unravel six months into Matt Santos' first term. There wasn't one thing that tore us apart, no big fight, no infidelities, nothing like that. Just two people who weren't ready to have an adult relationship even though we had moved to adulthood many, many years earlier. I didn't place blame then and I still don't to this day. Things just happened and one day I found myself packing up my belongings while Josh was out of the country with the President.

I moved into an apartment by myself, living alone for the very first time in my life. Josh and I both continued to work in the White House, Josh in the West Wing and me in the East Wing. We saw each other daily and honestly did our best to maintain a friendly relationship. For a while we did just fine. But we both stared to realize there was more to life than what we experienced within the White House walls and as a result, we began to date other people. Running into each other at social gatherings we'd spent years attending together, first as clueless co-workers and then as a couple, became awkward.

I met Ted Casey about 4 months before the Santos administration was thrown into the middle of the first midterm elections. He was an attorney with a thriving practice in the heart of Georgetown. We met at a coffee shop where, in a scene straight out of a movie, I ducked to try to avoid a sudden rainstorm. He was in line ahead of me, just as wet as I was, fumbling in his pocket for some change. I reached for his briefcase a second before it slid to the ground. He thanked me profusely and offered to buy me a cup of coffee. I accepted as Ted pointed to one of the last empty tables in the place. I scooted past groups of college students and a young mother with an adorable baby in a huge stroller. With a sigh I dropped my bag and umbrella before peeling off my rain soaked coat.

As he crossed the café I got my first real look at Ted. At that point I didn't even know his name. All I knew was he cute, with red hair and blue eyes, and more importantly, wasn't wearing a wedding ring. He set down our coffees and a blueberry scone before formally introducing himself.

Coffee turned into a two hour conversation, a walk through Georgetown once the rain had stopped and dinner later that night. By the end of the evening I was completely smitten.

Ted was very different from Josh and the other guys I had casually dated "post-Josh". He was laid back, believed in taking time for the little things in life and he had interests outside of work. It was nice to date a guy who wasn't tethered to his cell phone 24/7. I felt a connection with Ted that I hadn't felt with a man in a long time.

Ted and I took things slowly, what I needed at the time. We didn't jump into a sexual relationship. I never lived with him before we got married. And most importantly, the stresses of both of our jobs only invaded our private life a little. I think that was the main difference between my relationship with Ted and what I had had with Josh. Our work life had been way too tied in with our personal life. That was just a fact of life for us, I never expected it to be any different, but in the end, it was just one of many things which didn't work out for us.

Six months in my relationship with Ted I made the difficult decision to leave the First Lady's office and the White House. It wasn't because of Josh; it was because I needed to see what else was out there in the world. I needed to expand my horizons. Looking at it now I guess that sounded strange, to seek horizons beyond the center of the nation. But deep inside I knew it was the right decision. I took a job in the private sector as the assistant to the Executive Director of the Nonprofit Roundtable of Greater Washington. Healthcare and Youth Development were my favorite causes to work on.

Ted and I got married in the Spring of 2008 in a ceremony in the small backyard of his townhouse. It was a small affair, about 30 close friends and family. My father walked me down the makeshift aisle. My sister was days away from delivering my nephew so she stayed in Wisconsin. Margaret stood next to me that day, her son was the ring bearer and Ted's niece was our flower girl. After going back and forth on my decision to invite Josh, I finally sent the invitation. We had done our best to remain friends over the years but I can't say things weren't a little strained at times. As luck would have it, Josh was out of town that weekend. He sent us a salad bowl from our registry at Macy's and a heartfelt note which I still have to this day. It's tucked away in a wooden box. The one with woven Lapland ribbons which used to be filled with moose meat.

We settled into Ted's townhouse with the understanding we would move out of the city before we had kids. Moving day came sooner than we had expected, when on the morning of our first anniversary we sat in our bathroom staring at a plastic stick with the two pink lines. I threw myself into finding up a suitable house in which to raise what we had planned on being a large family.

When I was about 4 months pregnant we narrowed our home search to two finalists, one in Bethesda and one in Arlington. Both were older homes in need of some TLC. Fortunately for us, Ted was very handy and more importantly, very eager to get his hands dirty and do some home improvement. In the end we chose the house in Arlington as it was easier travel wise to get into the city.

About that time I also made a rather life changing decision, I decided to become a stay at home mom. Although I loved my work at the Nonprofit Roundtable of Greater Washington I felt I was at a point in my life where I wanted to devote myself to my family solely. It was a decision Ted supported wholeheartedly. Luckily we were in a position financially which allowed me to stay home full time.

So we moved into the house two months before I was due. From the day we picked up the keys I gave new meaning to the term "nesting". I painted, scrubbed, rearranged furniture and cooked meals to put into the freezer. Ted watched with barely controlled amusement as I spent hours picking out furniture, wallpaper and carpeting.

I went into labor just as the 4th of July fireworks were starting over the Potomac River. Figuring it was my first child and I had plenty of time, Ted and I watched most of the show before heading to the hospital. Turned out that wasn't quite the best idea as the traffic after the fireworks ended was unbelievable. I delivered a healthy 8 pound baby boy a mere 40 minutes after arriving at George Washington University Hospital. We named him Matthew Leo after Ted's father and Leo McGarry.

Our whole world was about to change…and we couldn't have been happier.

* * *

After we split Josh threw himself into his work, more so than usual, if that was possible. Nobody was surprised. He went to work early and left late, even later than usual. More than once I noticed him wearing the same suit two days in a row, having slept in the office. I didn't give his behavior much thought. As long as I had known him, that was always his way of dealing with things, immerse himself in his work and do his best to shut out the rest of the world. I think the Santos administration got more bills through Congress in the six months after we broke up than any other period of the administration.

As much as Josh's plan to work himself into oblivion seemed right on track for him, it was soon clear that the amount of work wasn't the thing which would cause those of us who cared about him to worry. We soon found out that when Josh finally went home for the day, he was drinking to help himself relax and sleep. Much to our shock, the habit of a seemingly innocent drink soon turned into something which rapidly spiraled out of control.

Though Josh and I weren't together at the time, we were still friends. And as a friend I stepped in, and with some long distance help from Sam, got Josh to realize the path his life had suddenly taken. He got the help he needed and we managed to keep the situation out of the newspapers.

About a year into my relationship with Ted, and as things had gotten very serious, Josh started to date a lobbyist 15 years his junior, Elizabeth Reynolds. I'd met her a few times over the years; she was a striking dark haired woman with designer suits and a pit bull reputation. Fiercely devoted to her work she was well respected but prone to speaking first and thinking second. A female version of Josh, many people said. I tended to agree with that assessment.

I admit it was strange to see Josh with another woman, Liz was the first one he dated after we broke up, or at least the first one he dated seriously. Ted and I ran into the two of them on occasion. We could certainly all be in the same room together without the need for intervention. I think Josh and I were in some way proud of that fact.

Theirs was a tumultuous relationship, from what I gathered from our mutual friends, the beltway rumor mill and my personal observations. But I have to give Josh credit, they stuck it out and in 2010, as Ted and I were about to celebrate out 2nd anniversary, Josh and Elizabeth eloped in the Virgin Islands. Obviously I wasn't invited to that ceremony; I don't think there were more than a dozen people there. They were married between Matt Santos' re-election and his second inauguration. I couldn't help but think of how once again, Josh headed to a tropical paradise in the middle of inauguration plans. Rumor was that Sam had insisted on this vacation also.

Josh and his new wife settled into a new townhouse, close to Capitol Hill. The two of them got a quicker start in the baby department than Ted and I did and less than a year after their marriage, and much to his surprise, Josh became a father at the age of 51. Like Ted and I, Josh and Liz turned to the Bartlet administration for baby name ideas. They named their son Andrew Josiah. We got a birth announcement in the mail with an adorable picture of Andy. He was the spitting of Josh, with brown curls and big dimples. I can honestly say I was happy for them.

Over the next decade or so our lives went on without much fanfare. Ted, Matt and I settled into suburban life and soon my time revolved around soccer practice, volunteering at Matt's school and being the wife of a successful DC attorney.

It was heavenly.

* * *

The only thing which was missing was more children. Two years after Matt was born, Ted and I started to try for a second child. After becoming pregnant quickly with Matt we hadn't anticipated any problems conceiving a second time. After two miscarriages, numerous tests, drugs, shots and tears we gave up on having another child when Matt was almost 10. We considered adopting, but before we could get very far with the process, Ted developed some health problems which were annoying at first but soon proved to be much more serious than anyone had ever expected.

On the morning after Matt's 10th birthday, Ted underwent surgery to remove a tumor from his right lung. As he was a non-smoker who was in great health, the diagnosis of lung cancer took us all by surprise and hit Matthew especially hard . One day he and his dad were making plans for the upcoming soccer season and the next we were telling Matt that his dad was about to be operated on for a disease he'd barely ever heard of in his young life.

The surgery went well and Ted was home within a week, giving us hope that things would soon be back to some semblance of normal.

And for a while, we got just that. Although Ted was undergoing chemotherapy, he was able to be the assistant soccer coach for Matt's team, just like he had been for 4 years. Sure Ted was weak and at times needed to sit down and rest but seeing the gleam in our son's eyes was all the motivation he needed to keep going.

By the time Matt turned 11, Ted's cancer was in remission and we celebrated by taking our son on his first trip to Walt Disney World. The photos from that trip remain some of my very favorites. We spent 14 glorious days in the Florida sun, with my red headed husband and son both getting more freckles than I thought possible. The two of them really reconnected during those two weeks. There were no doctor's appointments, blood work or other medical issues to get in the way. It was during that trip that Ted taught Matt to golf, a sport he loves to this day.

* * *

Matthew started a new phase of his life the following fall when he started middle school at St. Alban's School on the grounds of Washington National Cathedral. Up until then, he'd attended our local public schools and while he'd done quite well, Ted and I felt he needed an extra push and after much research, during which I had made some of my famous note cards, the three of us decided that St. Alban's was the place for Matt. It was good for him in many ways and he thrived there.

It was with the help of the St. Alban's family that Matt and I got through the winter and spring of his sophomore year of high school. In late 2024, Ted's cancer returned unexpectedly and with vengeance nobody could have predicted. The cancer returned and spread with a speed his oncologist had never seen before. One day the three of us were at the lighting of the National Christmas Tree and the next evening Ted was in George Washington University Medical Center, where he would remain until his death in the middle of January 2025.

Ted's death left Matt and I in shock, which was perfectly understandable. The viewing and funeral were a blur to both of us. To this day I can't recall the names of the hymns which were sung, the scriptures which were read or the names of all six pallbearers. Suddenly I was 52 years old and a single parent with an almost 16 year old son. It was almost too much for both of us to bear.

But we survived, what else could we do?

Matt returned to school a week after Ted died. It was his decision to go back so soon and I supported it, he needed to get back to some semblance of normalcy, he needed to get back to his friends and to some structure as he'd missed many days of school while Ted was nearing the end of his life.

Truly alone for the first time in a long time, I had some difficult decisions to make. Ted left behind a sizable life insurance policy and financially I didn't really have to work full time but I quickly realized that being the stay at home mom of an increasingly independent teenage boy was not something I was interested in at the time. And so I decided it was time to head back into the work force. I took a job as an exhibit coordinator at the Smithsonian Institution. I worked at the National Museum of American History. Although it was fast paced, it was so different from anything I had ever done and I enjoyed every minute of it.

* * *

During the 16 short years Ted, Matthew and I were a family of three I had maintained some kind of relationship with Josh. We talked every month or so and met every few months for lunch. Our families ran into each other every once in a while as Matt and Andy's paths sometimes crossed for soccer tournaments and things like that. In fact Matt and Andy attended the same summer camp one year, becoming friendly before I realized just who the little boy with the wild hair and dimples was.

So when I started back to work in the District, having lunch with Josh seemed only natural. We made plans to meet one afternoon in early May about 4 months after Ted died. I remember the day was gorgeous, a change from the rainy weather we had been having the week prior. Josh and I spoke that morning, and as usual we'd been unable to decide where to go out to eat so we made plans to meet at the Lincoln Memorial, a spot which had been "our" place for years.

I remember waiting for him as I'd arrived early, a habit of mine for almost half a century. I was sitting on the steps, alternating between watching for Josh and watching the group of Marines running up and down the steps. I spotted Josh coming along the path from the Korean War Memorial and I wasn't happy with what I saw at all. I hadn't seen him since Ted's funeral where he'd snuck in at the last minute, sitting alone in a back pew. For years Josh had limped slightly when he walked, a residual effect from the shooting in Rosslyn but that day it was more pronounced and it wasn't just his limp which worried me, it was the absolutely exhausted look on his face, in his whole demeanor, which got me more worried than I probably had a right to be.

Josh climbed the dozen or so steps to meet me, giving me a hug which lasted longer than our hugs had in many years.

"How are you?" he asked as he released me from his embrace but kept holding onto my hands.

"I'm okay, we're okay," I clarified as I pulled my hands from his and hiked my tote bag up a little higher on my shoulder. "Are you okay?" I asked as we turned to start down the steps. Josh didn't really answer my question as we headed in the direction of the Washington Monument.

In fact it took until dessert for Josh to answer my question. And I had to ask it again, numerous times.

"Joshua, I've known you for way too long for me to just let you blow off my question. So spill, what's wrong?" I asked as I handed him two sugars for his second cup of coffee. As it always had, the use of his full name got his attention and as he dumped the sugar into his mug he started to talk.

Twenty minutes later I knew his life was about to change almost as much as mine had months earlier. I listened as Josh spilled everything about what had been going on. His hands shook, he had tears in his eyes and he struggled to put everything into words. I'd rarely seen Josh as emotional or distraught as he was at that moment. His marriage was all but over, two weeks prior Liz had confessed to an affair which had been going on for three years. Although she swore it was over, the damage was clearly irreparable and Josh had already consulted a divorce lawyer. Andy was devastated, as any kid would be when he realized the family he knew was about to be torn apart. His allegiance rested with his father and Liz was making plans to move out, leaving the Lyman men alone in their Capitol Hill brownstone.

I was all but speechless by the time Josh finished talking. It was shocking. I thought they were happy, apparently so did Josh. The look in his eyes was nothing short of heartbreaking and it was all I could do not to get up, sit next to him in the booth and take him into my arms. But that wasn't who we were anymore, we were friends, that was true but after almost 2 decades apart we weren't each other's "go to" person. That's just the way things were at that point in time.

Josh and spent a little more time together following Ted's death and Josh's divorce but we were just friends. We met for lunch with a little more frequency, talked at least once a week on the phone and much to my surprise, we texted each other a few times a day. Imagine my surprise when Josh actually learned to text.

* * *

On the second anniversary of Ted's death, Matt and I visited his gravesite, something we did a couple of times of year. After wiping the snow from the headstone and putting down our flowers, Matt reached for my hand and smiled.

"I want to talk about something," Matt said as he pulled up the zipper on his fleece jacket.

"Here? Now?" I asked. It was about 20 degrees out and snow was threatening to fall.

"We can walk and talk," my son teased as he gave me the big lopsided grin he'd inherited from his father.

"What's so important?" I asked Matt as I took his arm. At nearly 18 he was almost 6 feet tall, skinnier than he would have liked and still growing.

"It's time for you to move on," he whispered.

"Move on?" I asked. I was pretty sure I knew what he was talking about but I wanted him to clarify it anyway.

"I'm graduating in a few months. I'm going to school in Philadelphia in September, you're going to be left all alone."

"All alone? Matthew, I'm not a hermit, I have friends and I have a job," I teased as I tossed him the car keys and headed for the passenger's side.

We sat down in the car, thankfully the engine didn't have time to cool off and the heat kicked in quickly.

"You know what I mean, Mom," Matt said with just a hint of exasperation in his voice, another trait he'd inherited from Ted. "It's time for you to date," he said simply.

"And do you have anyone in mind for me to date?" I asked, curious as to what he would say.

"No, I'll leave that up to you," he said with a grin. "I trust you not to date any gomers," he added with a laugh.

"I'll try not to," I promised with as straight a face as I could muster.

As Matthew was about to wrap up his high school career I moved on and started a new phase of my life, dating again. Dating in my 50s was so much different that dating in my 20s and 30s. I seemed to go on a lot of first dates, not too many second dates. I guess deep down I was pretty picky about who I dated. I preferred someone with kids, but not young kids, I was too old to be running around after little ones. I didn't particularly want to date anyone in politics and that narrowed the pool of available men in the District considerably.

While I was gently wading into the dating pool, Josh was hanging out on dry land, where he claimed he was going to stay for the rest of his life. He applauded my efforts, made "helpful" suggestions about who I should date and in general teased me mercilessly. I feigned annoyance but the truth was, I wouldn't have had it any other way.

* * *

Time flew by for Matt and I. He graduated with honors from St. Alban's in June of 2027 and after a summer of working at the local public pool he headed to University of the Sciences in Philadelphia to study pharmacy. He'd considered going into medicine but decided his fear of blood would get in the way. I knew deep down he decided to study pharmacy in the hopes of doing cancer research so that maybe other kids wouldn't have to go through what he'd gone through.

Despite Matt's predictions, I didn't crawl into a hole all alone when he left for school. Just the opposite, I had a full life, social and otherwise. I had my work and a close circle of friends, including Josh.

Matt's first two years of college flew by for both of us. He threw himself into his studies, earning himself a 3.6 GPA by the end of his second year. I was so proud of him as he was set to start the actual four year pharmacy program in September 2029. I had the opportunity for a promotion at the Smithsonian but after many hours of contemplating alone and talking with Matthew, I decided to pass up the opportunity and stay in my position. I wasn't looking to "move up in the world"; I was starting to think about looking towards retirement.

About the same time, Josh was also beginning to think about slowing down. Retiring completely wasn't something he considered, I teased him that doing so would kill him outright. By that time he was an advisor for the DNC, a position which had basically been created for him. He enjoyed what he was doing but the few times we actually got together the summer between Matt's second and third year of college I could tell he was start to slow down. He was 68, almost 69, certainly at an age where he should have been giving retirement a serious thought.

But as one would expect of Joshua Lyman, convincing him to even think about retiring took some serious effort on the part of Andy and myself. It was on a rainy night at the end of August when Josh told me of his final decision to retire, at least from his current position. I'd like to say that this conversation happened in some place appropriate to the moment, somewhere like the steps of the Capitol, the Rose Garden at the White House or at "our place", The Lincoln Memorial. Unfortunately, the conversation took place in the Emergency Room of George Washington University Hospital while Josh was being evaluated for a possible heart attack. Luckily it wasn't a heart attack, but it certainly was a big warning sign, one that led to Josh making the tough decision to retire.

After being released from the hospital, where after three days and two nights Josh had nurses drawing straws to see who had to deal with him, I brought him to my house to spend a few days recovering. At first he balked at the idea but soon realized that I would wait on him hand and foot if that was what it took to get him to relax a little. The whole heart attack scare frightened us more than either of us would have ever admitted.

"Donna, you're hovering. Sit down, you're making me dizzy," Josh whined for the third time in five minutes. We were on the front porch of my house enjoying the late summer evening. Josh had been out of the hospital about 6 hours and truth was I'd been hovering for about five and a half of those hours. I couldn't help it.

"Sorry," I muttered as I moved to sit on the railing. Josh was stretched out on a lounge chair, more tired than he would ever admit to being.

"It's okay, I understand," he said sincerely as he squirmed around a little in an effort to get comfortable. "Dinner was delicious, by the way. Even with all the green stuff," he smirked.

"Salad Joshua, it's called salad. And I'm pretty sure, contrary to your opinion, it won't kill you."

"I'm not sure I'm willing to take my chances. One death scare a week is enough for me," Josh teased. Unfortunately his teasing didn't go over all that well with me. It was his defense mechanism, had been for all his life and I knew it. But at that point I couldn't handle it. I remember sliding off the railing and going into the house, not wanting Josh to see me in unnecessary tears.

To my surprise, Josh didn't follow me in the house. I'm not sure if I was relieved or not. I pulled myself together with a few tissues and a drink of water before heading back outside, embarrassed at my emotions. Josh was where I had left him 10 minutes earlier, curled up on the lounge chair.

Josh glanced over his shoulder when he heard the front door open. He didn't say anything, but he gave me a little smile. I went back to sit on the railing, wanting a little space between us.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly.

"For what? Caring? Being scared?"

"I don't know, overreacting?" I muttered as I wiped away a stray tear and ran my fingers through my hair.

"Understandable, it's been a long few days. But from the bottom of my heart, thank you for everything. I know it made Andy feel better, knowing you were looking out for me, that I wasn't alone. The last thing I wanted was for him to come home from school just as the semester was starting." Andy had just started his second year of college in California four days before Josh ended up in the hospital. It took a lot for him not to hop on the next plane home.

"It was the least I could do, after everything you did for me, for Matt and I, when Ted died."

"That's what friends do for each other," Josh said quietly as me motioned for me to come down from off the railing. I headed for the chair nearest him when he reached out to grab my hand, pulling me onto the lounge chair with him in a move which took both of us by surprise. We curled up side by side, the closest we'd been to each other in decades. In an instant years melted away and we were transported back in time.

"Do you think this whole experience was a wakeup call?" Josh asked quietly.

"For who?" I asked, not quite sure where the conversation was heading and not wanting to jump to any conclusions or to head off in the wrong direction.

"For us," Josh whispered. "A call for you to stop dating gomers and a call for me to go for a dip in the dating pool."

I remember looking him in the eye, looking for a sign that he was teasing….joking. There was no such sign, he was serious and it both thrilled me and scared me to death.

"Donna, say something," Josh said with a small grin.

"I think…." Before I could get my thoughts together, Josh kissed me, really kissed me for the first time in almost 25 years. When we broke apart there was no awkwardness, no fumbling around for the right words or anything like that. We were just us. It wasn't like we were picking up where we'd left off years earlier; we were different people at that point. We were both parents, both about to move into a new phase of our lives. It wasn't a continuation of where we had left off, it was a new beginning.

It's been there in my dreams the scene I see unfold  
Who at last flesh and blood to cherish and hold  
Jealous fools will suffer yes I know and I confess  
once I lost my way when something good had just began  
lesson learned its history all is said and done

Standing calmly at the crossroads, no desire to run  
There's no hurry any more when all is said and done.


End file.
